1,000 Shades of Escape
by Itsrane
Summary: Flash fiction, 1k words. Anastasia doubts her relationship with Christian, and wonders if maybe things were not as fairy-tale perfect as she thought. Rated just to be on the safe side.


**Quick notes:** As this was written to answer a challenge, I did not go in-depth into the actual topic of abuse. However, a quick Google search would yield amazing results, if you plug in "signs of an abusive relationship".

**1,000 Shades of Escape**

Anastasia Steele _tsked _as she read another article about a poor woman who had been living in terror with an abusive husband. She wondered why women like this waited so long before leaving. If it was her, she'd leave ASAP, make no mistake. Good thing she wasn't in the woman's position with Christian. She flipped to the next page of the newspaper that was left on the door at yet another swanky hotel. At the thought of her… lover… boyfriend… _master_… she felt a shiver of longing and anticipation, and a something else her mind squished before she could identify. Another page, another thought, again, and again, and again. Her eyes landed on an advertisement for some sort of lecture on women and empowerment. Interest piqued, Ana read the details. The topic was about healthy relationships. Ana smiled. She didn't need someone to _tell_ her she was happy. She knew that. That something in her mind resurfaced, but was squished before she could really think about it. It would be a few hours, at least, before Christian got back to the suite. Not that he ever told her when _he'd_ be back, but God forbid she ever forgot. She can tell it was because he cared for her, though. It didn't take a genius to figure that one out! Looking around town would be fun, she decided. Shop a little, go sight-seeing… She took careful note of the time as she slipped her shoes on. He would be worried and angry if she was out when he got back in… Maybe she should check out that healthy relationships thing, after all. She tore the ad out for the address – at a university, of course – and went down to the lobby to ask the concierge to hail a cab for her. The cabbie took one look at the address she was waving in his face, grunted, and took off almost before she settled in the back seat. As she tried to relax as they sped along and weaved through the jam, she thought she knew know exactly what they meant when they said money can buy you anything.

Ana had entered the hall, cocksure of her relationship with Christian Grey. Then someone asked the very question she had asked herself that morning, asked why battered women did not leave their abusers. The lecturer had paused then, and looked about the audience. "Some of you might find this hard to listen to, as it would resonate with your own experiences. If you're not comfortable with that, please leave the room. You are, of course, welcome to come back later."

Ana had rolled her eyes as some women – and even a couple of men! – quietly got up and left. Yet when the speaker went over the warning signs and actions of what makes a relationship abusive, Ana had felt her face heat up, even as her mind raced to come up with excuse after excuse, each flimsier than the last, trying to convince herself that her relationship with Christian was _different_, and did not line up with these things that defined abuse. But slowly, that paper-thin defense gave way under the calm assault of facts and anecdotes. Memories raced through her mind, seen, for the first time, through this new lens, and what she remembered left her feeling slightly sick and… afraid. That was it. That feeling that kept resurfacing, only to be squished away, was fear. Fear of her situation. Fear of Christian Grey. She could not remember the rest of the talk. One minute she was in her seat, the next she was letting the crowd carry her out. As soon as she was out of the press of people, she veered towards the wall and leaned against it, thankful to have something that was solid around her. A part of her had acquired a new mantra, and was constantly repeating _everything is a lie_ over and over again. A hand on her shoulder startled her, and she whipped around to see who it was. Grey eyes stared into hers and for one awful second, her heart stopped and decided her throat was a better place to be.

"Are you okay, miss?" asked a concerned voice. Ana nearly started laughing. _It's not him, you silly bitch, it's a woman_. She smiled weakly at the worried, grey-eyed woman, and nodded, then tried to walk away without looking like she was going to fall over. She thought she had succeeded until she saw the woman still staring at her when she risked a peek over her shoulder.

It was two miles or so back to the hotel, and she needed to think, so she decided to walk. She had to get away somehow. Had she not said if she was in that sort of situation, she would be out of there? She just did not know she was, that was her problem. That was the problem many people had. She thought back to the way he made her feel guilty over things that were not her fault, the way he controlled and coerced her. Anger started to boil in her belly, but she refused to let it control her. She had to think. She knew she could not confront him, so fighting was out of the way. The other option is make a run for it. _Fight or flight, right? _She quickly went over her list of friends and was dismayed to realize how distant many of them were now, all thanks to one Mr. Grey. She was finally at the hotel. Back in their – _his_ – suite, she quickly packed what she needed. She didn't want anything he had gotten her. _Look at what money can buy!_ She thought, bitterly. She left Christian's room for good this time, intentionally uncaring of his return. As the cab she was in zoomed towards the airport, she dialed a number on the phone he had given her.

"Hello, mom? I need help… No, I'm not okay."

**End**


End file.
